


You Could Meet Someone You Like

by Donteatthefootcream



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Barbara and Ed are best friends, Business Competition, Ed needs to be protected, Falling In Love, Hotel and Casino Owner Oswald, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Sex, Kissing, M/M, Mentions of past drug use, Mutual Pining, No one is a killer, Non-Killer Ed, Soft Ed, Song fic, Well... Oswald maybe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-07 02:08:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15898755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Donteatthefootcream/pseuds/Donteatthefootcream
Summary: When Barbara drags her dear friend, Edward Nygma, the man who needs to live a little, to the critically acclaimed and new hype establishment, the Iceberg Lounge, he doesn't expect to fall in a deep hole of pining. He doesn't expect to be the new focus of the owner's attention either. But, this is Gotham.





	You Could Meet Someone You Like

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone can guess what song this is written alongside of, I'll love you. Or, I'll write you a Nygmobblepot one shot if you want. :)

The whole city of Gotham is aware of the new business in the center of town. Only open for two months, but it has  _ exceptional  _ reviews and people come from everywhere to stay the night. The critically acclaimed hotel and casino has been named “the place to go” and  _ the  _ best place to relax. 

 

The owner, Oswald Cobblepot, has been the talk of the town. He’s a unique individual with the incredible styled hair with the often purple streaks, expensive and exquisite suits, the charm, his gait from past experiences, his beak-like nose, and his ability to drink the whole night and not stumble. Whoever entered the place fell in love with the man.

 

Although Edward Nygma is intrigued by the mysteries and puzzles this man’s story must contain, he was  _ not  _ going to it. The place is a tourist trap on top of a casino. And, the prices for staying the night must be ridiculous. He was not going to be throwing away his money on the small chance of getting to know this man’s secrets. It was simply a waste of time. 

 

He jumps when his apartment door is slamming shut and tall heels come clicking painfully fast against his floor.  _ Barbara Kean.  _ Ed doesn’t truly know why he’s friends with her. She has a deranged way of seeing things, finds the darkest things hilarious, is self-absorbed, and disappears for days without  _ one  _ text. But, she gets him in her own kind of Barbara way. 

 

“Eddie!” She greets, dangling her keys in one hand as she stands in front of him. 

 

She’s a sight to behold. The leather skirt half way above her knee, hair curled, makeup on point, and the fur collared shirt. He is certainly going to be dragged into some  _ crazy  _ plan tonight. He knows it. 

 

“What?” He replies, leaning into his hand. It was  _ his  _ Friday night with a day off following. He wants to be left alone, like usual. 

 

“We’re going out. Put on your best outfit and let’s go!”

 

Ed doesn’t move from the couch in the living space like he’s expected to. After seconds of awkward eye contact, she sighs and mumbles something under her breath and takes her obvious disappointment towards his closet. 

 

“Barbara!” He calls after her, jumping up to follow her, “It’s clear that you’re planning something crazy and social. You know how I am-”

 

She holds a finger to his lips, “Ed, sweetie, I’ve been to this place once before. It’s marvelous! Trust me and live a little? Good? Good.” She drags her fingers down his jaw, staring at his face to spot a reaction. She doesn’t. “God, you’re no fun. I’m usually being kissed by now.”

 

“We’re friends.”

 

Barbara scoffs and shrugs. “Hasn’t stopped many.”

 

He’s tempted to ask, but decides against it. He likes to know things, yet,  _ not that.  _ So, instead he fidgets with his hands as he prays to some unrealistic being that she’ll give up when she sees his closet. There’s nothing special in there, living off of a GCPD pay. All there is are long sleeved button down shirts is many colors, slacks, several ties and socks, along with two separate pairs of shoes. 

 

“I don’t have much to work with,” Barbara states. “You look the best in green. We’ll go with that and work from there.”

 

Ed wants to tell her to stop, explain how he  _ really  _ doesn’t want to go anywhere with her, and politely make her leave. However, he can’t. How do you tell a person to stop something so easily? Either it comes out rude or weak. Human interaction and communication is so much harder than people think. 

 

“Barbara-”

 

She appears, holding out a entire outfit. An outfit he bought one random one evening and has never dared to put on. It would be too showy at work. He has enough problems at work. He doesn’t need to be ridiculed for his fashion as well. 

 

“I don’t know where the  _ hell  _ this came from, but we’re going with it. Shiny green suit jacket, ironed white shirt, black vest, and matching pants? Count me in!” She shoves it towards him. “Do your hair, Ed and come out in ten minutes. You are so getting laid tonight!”

 

“ _Barbara_ ,” He practically whines. 

 

She laughs and waves a hand. “I’m joking, Ed! I won’t let anyone touch you!” 

 

He decides that this is the best he’s getting tonight from her. “You better stick to that.”

 

 

It took about an hour to get into the Iceberg Lounge. The line was around the corner once the two of them got inside. The first thing to see when they walk in is the club area, people dancing or drinking. Fortunately, there’s places to sit. 

 

The dark lighting with the blue and purple disco ball is something. According to his google search he made while waiting, the building is practically indestructible, the staff is kind and polite, the food and alcohol are fairly priced for their stunning quality, and security takes their jobs seriously. Still, none of this is very comforting to him. 

 

Barbara brushes off his shoulder. “If we weren’t friends, I would have stayed at home and given you the best fuck of your life,” Barbara confesses. She laughs at his appalled cringe. “You’re going to knock them dead, Ed!”

 

“My plan is to sit and be on my phone.”

 

She groans. “You can’t be serious!” Barbara gestures to a large door leading to the casino. “At least come with the casino with me! You’re a genius! You can help me win big!”

 

“You do know that most of the games and machines are based off of luck, right? I would be of no help.”

 

“Why am I friends with you again?” She stares at him, hands on her hips with a questioning look. 

 

“Umm… because we both had pretty terrible childhoods that have unfortunately impacted how we behave now. You’re a reckless, carefree woman who believes drugs and sex can erase your childhood. Me on the other hand, merely have social anxiety and have poorly handled PTSD.”

 

She nods, lips tight. “This is why you continue to carry around your v-card. See you later tonight, Ed! I’ll text you if I get another ride home if you know what I mean.” She winks, walking off without him. 

 

“ _ Great _ .” He must look pathetic as he looks around. 

 

With some dread, he orders a grasshopper from the bar and finds a table to sit at alone. He hopes this won’t make him look interested in a hook up, sitting alone with a clear disinterest in his surroundings. 

 

He spends most of his evening regretting talking to Barbara at a rehab clinic all those years ago, and checking his phone whenever she sends him a picture from the casino.  _ At least _ she’s having the time of her life. 

 

Ed tries to avoid medication and alcohol at all costs. His demon is drug use, but he can never be care free when it comes to alcohol. He made it successfully through rehab. Sober eight years too. It’s too bad Barbara can’t be as dedicated as he can be, but he’s never going to say anything judgemental. He gets the pain it cures… for only so long. 

 

“Tell me, how come a handsome man such as yourself has been sitting here all by himself for the past… two and a half hours?” A man asks, standing beside him. 

 

Ed jumps, startled. “Umm…” He looks up to face a man. A man in an expensive, evidently tailored, suit with purple streaks in his strangely perfect styled black hair. His nose is an original, but originals are always prettier than a copy, “I-I’m sorry. Let me start over.” Ed pushes up his glasses, a nervous tick of his, “My friend brought me along, she ditched me almost immediately.”

 

The man nods, walking away to sit in the chair across from Ed.  _ A limp.  _ He rests his cane against the table. 

 

“You’re the owner!” Ed realizes. “This must look so rude, sitting here in your establishment looking astonishingly bored. I’m incredibly-”

 

Oswald stops him with a hand, shaking his head. “No apologies needed, sir. From what I can tell, this isn’t your usual Friday night. Am I correct?”

 

“N-no, no it isn’t to be truthful.”

 

“Then why are you still here, if you don’t mind me asking?”

 

Ed knits his eyebrows, not knowing the answer himself. He looks around at the fancy place around him, the nearly finished well done drink in front of him, and the distinct amusement on every person in the room’s face. 

 

“This place doesn’t have four out of five stars for nothing, Mr. Cobblepot. It might not be my cup of tea, but sitting here by myself in such a nice place wasn’t intolerable.”

 

He offers Ed a small smile. “Well, you won’t be by yourself no longer, if you don’t mind-”

 

Ed hesitantly gives out his hand across the table. “Edward Nygma.”

 

“Oswald.” He squeezes his hand firmly. 

 

_ He has nice hands.  _

 

Ed shakes the thought out of his head, not wanting to allow  _ vivid  _ scenarios to come into this head. 

 

“This might come off as strange, but… ever since you became a phenomenon in this city, I’ve had an interest in you. You’re a mystery Mr. Cobblepot-”

 

“Oswald.”

 

Ed clears his throat. “Oswald.” He smiles. “And, I  _ really  _ like mysteries. Puzzles, riddles, anything along the sort honestly.”

 

The regal man leans on the table, smiling sincerely. “Oh really? What do you care to know?”

 

He straightens himself out, obviousexcitment expressed by the giddy movement of shoulders. “Well, we can start with the limp if you don’t mind me asking.”

 

“I’m going to let you in on a secret, Edward. Men like me don’t get into such a lovely position like this without heartbreak, sacrifices, betrayals, and the occasional violence. My hard work and  _ morally right  _ decisions led me to a…  _ shady  _ employer bashing my knee. The break never healed entirely which causes pain and extra pressure to my ankle.”

 

Ed places his chin in his palm, resting his elbow against the table. He hopes he isn’t looking to dreamy, staring at the man. “Is it bad to say how interesting that is? How interesting your whole life most likely is?”

 

Oswald chuckles, looking away bashfully. “No, it truly isn’t. And, the only people worth my time are the ones who think that way.”

 

Ed blushes, putting his trust in the dark lighting to hide it. “I’m glad I fit the criteria then.”

 

The lights dancing across the room flash the table, bringing out the sparkle in Oswald’s blue eyes. Yes, Ed can get lost in those. In this whole feeling of having someone on the same intelligence level as he. It’s a relief, a comfort. 

 

“Now, Ed, tell me something about yourself. How about… what do you do for a living?”

 

Anyone who has ever asked Ed this question become isgusted by the end of it. Not because of the tasks done to complete the job, but the way Ed  _ enjoys  _ it so much. The majority of people wouldn’t find the job stimulating, relaxing, or as interesting as Edward Nygma does. Yet, Ed doesn’t think Oswald will mind. Oswald, so far, has given off a vibe that he isn’t unsettled by such topics. 

 

“Most people find this… unnerving, but I work at the GCPD in forensics. You know, inspecting bodies, analyzing DNA, finding the weapon used, the majority is guns, by bullets. My profession reminds me of a puzzles. The whole crime is a puzzle and I’m finding the pieces to put it together. People like to gloss over how  _ unnecessary _ detectives are. They don’t really do anything  _ too drastic _ to solve the case.”

 

Oswald hums. “You have a very unique way of seeing things, Ed. I like it.”

 

 

And, that’s how it begins. This strange sort of relationship with hidden infatuation. The visits have been going on for months, almost six. Ed returns every Friday night, including the ones where he does have work in the morning. 

 

Their meetings consist of hidden blushes and twitching fingers. He has one grasshopper and Oswald has made it his  _ goal  _ to find him earlier every time. There’s smiles offered to one another. Smiles that are so  _ real  _ Ed hardly believes it sometimes.  

 

Ed concluded a while ago that people who think Oswald is strange looking or unattractive are the people who have no insightful thinking or creativity. Of course Oswald is beautiful with his charm, smile, the way he looks away when he’s genuinely complimented, the way he holds himself like a King, how his distinct nose is endearing in its bird look. 

 

“Who was that?” Ed questions Oswald as he approaches the table.

 

He's not jealous that Oswald was talking to a gorgeous woman, including sharing a drink with her. The topic of sexuality was brought up months ago where Oswald confessed that women have never done it for him. And, Ed was  _glad_ to have that support. The only other queer person she knows is Barbara which is no real reassurance when it came to acceptance of one's self. 

 

Oswald looks at where Ed is looking. The beautiful, pale skinned, black haired woman standing alone at the counter looking rather frustrated. 

 

“Sofia Falcone?” Oswald waves a hand in dismissal. “Don’t worry about her. She’s competition, wants to run me out of Gotham. That clearly won’t be happening with the reviews this place receives.”

 

“I agree with you, Oswald. This business is fantastic and  _ booming!  _ But, shouldn’t you be a tad bit concerned? Isn’t she connected with the mafia? She has power behind her you can’t possibly match.”

 

He takes a sip of his drink, something mixed with vodka. He winks at Ed. “Like I said, don’t worry about.”

 

“I’m sorry that I worry. I just… you’re one of my two friends, Oswald. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

 

There’s some sort of spark in Oswald’s eyes that he barely catches. “You’re the single friend I have, Ed. I won’t let anything take that from me. I’ve had too many people ripped from me in my life. I refuse for you to be one of them.”

 

Ed stares at him for a good amount of time. His heart feels like it stopped and his twitching fingers are urging him to intertwine them with Oswald’s. The twinkle in Oswald’s eyes are more prominent and so are his freckles. He’s prettier than he’s ever been before. The people who put Ed on edge by just being around don’t matter anymore. 

 

_ This is what love must feel like.  _

 

“I don’t get along with people well,” Ed blurts out. 

 

Oswald softly laughs, not mocking him however. “Yes, I have inferred that. You sit at this table every time, the woman who you come with every now and then leaves you right from the start, and the  _ one  _ person you talk to is  _ me _ . I don’t mind though, Ed. I think you’re perfect just the way you are.”

 

Ed shakes his head, trying to shake the red off his cheeks. “I’m not perfect in any way, Oswald. I have social anxiety. I have PTSD that I take minimum care of. My two friends are a man who’s too good for me who owns the best business for hundreds of miles around, and a woman I met in drug rehabilitation who became my friend because childhoods are rough. I’m a sack of skin and bones and potential  _ no one  _ takes notice of. I’m a mess, Oswald.”

 

Oswald looks at Ed, thinking of what to say next. And then, he smiles. “Edward Nygma, you are a  _ not  _ a mess. You’re a survivor, first of all. How long have you been sober?”

 

Ed looks away. “Eight years.”

 

“Eight years! You’re a survivor, Ed and a strong one at that. You’re successful in every meaning of the word. You see the world better than anyone else can. Yes, you have PTSD, but why should you be imperfect for that? You can’t apologize for having that, the things that hurt you should be apologizing. On your statement of how you’re skin and bones? I think you’re built flawlessly. You’re lean and tall with sharp cheekbones that look adorable when you blush. Honestly, you are the prettiest person I have ever met. For you potential?  _ I  _ see your potential, Ed and the people who don’t can go get jump in the lake. They’re idiots.”

 

He’s smiling stupidly now, he knows it. And at Oswald. He’s not being subtle anymore.  _ “God, I love you.” _

 

Oswald nods, delighted . “I figured you might.” He takes Ed’s other hand, grasping it warmly. “I love you too, Ed. You’re magnificent.”

 

“So are you.”

 

And, Ed isn’t sure what compels him to reach across the table and pull Oswald’s lips right to his. But, living for once and taking all the risks is acceptable every now and then. And, with this fantastic man in front of him it’s so worth it. 

 

“Do you want to ditch this popsicle stand?” Oswald whispers on Ed’s lips. 

 

Ed giggles at the phrase. “God, yes.”

 

Ed tugs at Oswald after this words are spoken, Oswald almost out of his chair by the ferocity of Ed’s passion. His face is being caressed by Oswald’s calloused thumbs, being such the caring person even now. 

 

 

Barbara is waiting for him the time he arrives home. It’s late afternoon the next day, Ed spending his day with Oswald either eating or taking part in fits of passion. The night before and the morning afterwards were probably some of the most enjoyable experiences he's ever had. If he thought he was in love with Oswald  _before,_ he was definitely in love with the man now. Oswald took part in post-coital cuddles which Ed didn't know he needed until he lived through it. They traded numbers, and Ed had been texting him the entire time on his cab ride home. 

 

Oswald is a walking, real human person. Ed continues to be in disbelief that he got  _this_ lucky. 

 

She lets out a breath of air from her joint. “How you doing, Eddie?”

 

Ed falls back against his apartment door. He sighs, “I never needed you for the best fuck of my life.”

 

She laughs, cheering following afterwards. “Who’s the lucky…  _ fellow _ ?” She points at him. “I’m guessing by the way you walked in.”

 

“So worth it.” He grins at her, proudly. “I’ve been visiting him for six months.”

 

“Six months? How the  _ fuck  _ have I missed this?”

 

“I fell in love with Oswald Cobblepot, Barbara.”

 

“You are going to marry a rich dude, Ed! I thought I taught you to do things I  _ wouldn’t  _ do.”

 

He laughs, pushing himself off the door and flopping onto his couch. “I should have known I would meet the love of my life at a four out of five casino.”

 

“ _ Jesus Christ! _ Love of your life?!”

 

He looks up at her, smiling warmly. “Love of my life, Barbara.”

 

And, Oswald most certainly is the love of his life. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not going to say what the song is. I hope you guys already know or WANT to know. I have no idea where this came from to be honest, but I like it. 
> 
> Thanks for reading or leaving kudos and comments. Have an AMAZING day! :)


End file.
